“Your heat and plumbing are fine, aren’t they?” he asked, already knowing the answer, his fingers playing with a silky lock of her hair.
She gave a little nod. “Yes. I’m sorry for lying.” Shifting in the seat, she held him hostage with her hot honeycomb eyes. Eyes laced with regret. “But I’m hoping you’ll still invite me to spend the night?”
Hell, yes, he would.
“You’re invited,” he said, voice rough with desire, pulling her hair just hard enough so her head tilted and her mouth opened. Before she could respond, her stomach growled and he smirked. “How about I cook us some dinner? And we’ll see where the night goes.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
If the night went where she hoped, Sabrina planned to spend it in Jayson’s bed. His kiss had ignited a fierce yearning, and an ache steadily throbbed in her nether regions. Jayson Knight was turning her on in a way she’d never experienced before. Yes, she wanted to jump him, but she also found herself wanting to know more about him.
She ran home, changing into more comfortable clothes and freshening up, then returned to his place. Even though she offered to help make dinner, he motioned to the stool at the island.
“I’ve got it,” he assured her, and she watched him expertly chop some small, yellow potatoes. Or, more accurately, she admired the deft way his hands worked and his delicious forearms flexed. Droolworthy.
“So what’s on the menu?”
“I’m thinking honey mustard chicken and crispy roasted potatoes with rosemary, butter and parmesan.”
“Oh, my God, that sounds good.”
“There’s some wine over on the rack, if you’d like some.”
Yes, Sabrina decided, she could absolutely use some alcohol. It had been a long day.
As she picked a bottle, her nerves kicked up. Jayson Knight was one of the good guys. A former Army Ranger, a devoted father, a silver fox who could cook—and wanted to do so even though she was pretty sure they both knew he could’ve taken her straight to bed first. And that made him a gentleman, too.
She hadn’t thought men like him existed. At least, not outside of romance novels. And certainly not in Washington D.C. Maybe the fresh air here in Montana created a different breed. One she definitely wanted to get to know better on every level.
But it had been just over two years since she’d gone to bed with a man, so she couldn’t help but feel some anxiety. Wondering how long it had been for him, she poured them each a glass and lifted hers.
“To getting to know each other better.” They clinked glasses, and she watched him over the rim as they both took a sip. That mouth of his filled her head with all sorts of dirty thoughts, and she quickly set her glass down, toying with the stem.
“You seem nervous,” he murmured.
The man was extremely perceptive, and she let out a soft sigh. “I haven’t dated anyone in a while.”
“No judgment here. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in over twenty years.” His mouth edged up.
“But you were busy raising Emma. You had an excuse. I just…” Her voice trailed off and Ian’s image flashed through her head. So annoying. She quickly quashed it.
“Just what?” he pressed.
“Picked the wrong man and got hurt.”
A dark scowl settled over his handsome face. “Fuck him. Anyone who had you and didn’t appreciate you is a goddamn idiot.”
Her mouth curved up in a smile at his bluntness. “Those might be the sweetest words anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Clearly, you’ve been with the wrong men.”
“All idiots,” she agreed. “But I’d like to change that.”
“You should.”
She chewed her lower lip, forcing herself to be brave.Just say it, Sabrina. Don’t chicken out now.“I think,” she said carefully, “you’re exactly what I need.”
An unholy golden light lit his eyes. “Oh?”
